


french lessons

by darkkidplaidopera



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom Victor Nikiforov, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Cinnamon Roll Katsuki Yuuri, Domestic Fluff, Finger Sucking, Flashbacks, Kinda Crack, Long-Haired Victor Nikiforov, M/M, Oral Sex, Smut, Spanking, Swearing, Teacher/Student Roleplay, Top Chris, thigh fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 07:33:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30068823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkkidplaidopera/pseuds/darkkidplaidopera
Summary: When Viktor and Yuuri decide to go on a vacation to France, Yuuri cannot help but wonder how Viktor learned to speak the language so fluently.“What are you going to teach me today, professeur?”Chris relaxed at Viktor’s eagerness. Now all he was left with was hope that this last resort will succeed.“We’ll play a game,” he replied, a mischievous grin making its way to his face. “At first, I’ll teach you some body-related vocabulary. Your task is to memorize it.”“Simple enough.”“After you do that, the game begins,” Chris continued. “I’ll point to a certain part of your body and you’ll have to translate the English word for it into French. If you do it correctly, you’ll get a reward. If not, I’ll punish you.”Alias Christophe Giacometti and the great outcomes of his questionable teaching methods.
Relationships: Christophe Giacometti & Victor Nikiforov, Christophe Giacometti/Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Kudos: 18





	french lessons

That day started quite casually. Yuuri lazily opened his eyes, instinctively trying to snuggle up to Viktor that was supposed to lay right beside him. He didn’t receive what he wanted, though. The spot usually occupied by his fiancé was empty. Yuuri yawned, the look of betrayal present on his face. He demanded his morning snuggles more than eating a homemade pork cutlet bowl after a particularly successful season. 

“Viktor?” he called out his fiancé's name, voice still slightly hoarse. 

“In the kitchen!” 

Yuuri stood up and followed the smell of pancakes coming from another room in their temporary apartment. When Yuuri finished the last skating season with a silver medal in hand, Viktor decided he needed to relax. And Viktor – as extravagant as he was – choose to go on a short vacation to France. It seemed like a nice option. He could speak the language with very little trouble due to his long-lasting friendship with Chris, who happened to have the habit of slipping some French into every conversation, and Paris was the perfect city for romance-starved couples. 

“Good morning.” 

Viktor turned his head to smile at Yuuri and fully appreciate the state of dishevelment he was in. Yuuri walked into the kitchen with his shirt put on backward, one slipper missing, and each of his dark locks aiming in a different direction. 

“Good morning,” he replied. 

Viktor, on the other hand, looked like a full-blown househusband instead of a professional figure skater. His neatly ironed shirt was partially covered with an apron as his left hand remained busy holding a bowl full of batter. Viktor tried his best to divide his attention between the burning pan and his equally hot lover, which wasn’t the easiest task to comply with. 

“The breakfast should be ready in a few minutes, _solnyshko,_ ” the pet name fell easily from his lips, quickly followed with a small chuckle as Yuuri’s cheeks turned red. No matter how many times Viktor has used those cute, overly domestic phrases, Yuuri didn’t become any more immune to his charms. 

Viktor adored it. 

Yuuri buried his face in his hands and sat on one of the wooden chairs. In the beginning, it was hard to just let Viktor do nice things for him, especially when they involved something Yuuri could do perfectly fine on his own. They even had a small argument about Viktor pampering him too much. After a long discussion and an almost perfect attempt at communication, they came to an agreement. Yuuri would let Viktor do what he wanted as long as Yuuri could reciprocate it the following day. He even suggested setting a schedule to remember who’s spoiling whom, but Viktor convinced him it was unnecessary. 

The said few minutes had passed quickly, and Viktor was now serving Yuuri his breakfast. 

“ _Bon appétit, mon chéri._ ” 

Yuuri’s stomach growled at the sight. The pancakes not only looked delicious - they tasted even better. Viktor was a man of many talents and a master of even more of them. Yuuri never suspected he would be that great of a cook, though. 

Just when he was about to finish his meal, one question occurred to him. 

“Viktor?” 

“Yes?” 

Yuuri swallowed the last bit of his pancake. 

“How did you learn to speak French?” 

Viktor choked on the orange juice he was drinking, his eyes widening. The question surely brought back some seemingly forgotten memories. Viktor quickly composed himself, not wanting to look like a pitiful child that could barely eat properly without getting something stuck in its airways. 

“Well...” he let out a sigh, unsure how to phrase what he wanted to tell Yuuri. “Let’s just say that Chris is a _very_ talented teacher.” 

***

Christophe Giacometti couldn’t exactly pinpoint when he and Viktor became friends. They started as fellow competitors with too busy schedules, barely exchanging any words and limiting their interactions to the bare minimum. With each shared skating event polite greetings switched to short conversations, and short conversations resulted in casual hangouts. Chris considered Viktor a close friend of his. That’s why when Viktor asked him for a simple favor, he didn’t have the heart to refuse. 

“So,” Chris took a sip of his coffee and looked at the man sitting in front of him. “You’d like me to teach you some French.” 

“Yeah.” 

Viktor’s long hair – his pride and joy – was tied in a low ponytail to avoid blocking his sight. He was wearing an oversized blue sweater and a pair of dark jeans. Chris would be lying if he said his friend looked unattractive, but he preferred seeing him in the skintight costumes he wore when skating. 

“I mean, I tried to learn a little on my own,” Viktor added in his defense, quickly following the sentence with a sigh. “But it’s all so confusing! The grammar maybe makes sense, but the only words I remember are ‘good morning’ and ‘thank you’. I can’t memorize that stuff to save my life.” 

Chris gave him a sympathetic smile. He didn’t think of himself as someone highly talented in learning languages, so he fully understood Viktor’s struggle. 

“I’ll be glad to help, _mon ami._ ” 

Viktor’s blue eyes lit up and a heart-shaped smile immediately formed on his face. He didn’t expect the other skater to agree so easily. 

“We can start right away,” Chris smirked and sat next to Viktor, their arms bumping. He lifted his chin with his long fingers, still maintaining some barely existing distance between their faces. “Is there any kind of vocabulary you’d like to learn in particular, Vitya?” 

*** 

_Click._

Chris put away the pen he was holding, furrowing his eyebrows and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He wasn’t sure whether Viktor wasn’t listening or he just somehow managed to master the ability called ‘forgetting every word after 5 goddamn minutes’, but Chris was slowly running out of ideas. Most of his favorite learning methods didn’t seem to do anything for his dear friend. Quite the opposite – some of them left Viktor more confused than before if it was even possible. 

Chris was tired. When he heard Viktor pronouncing _beaucoup_ as _beau cul_ for the fourth time in a row, he snapped. 

“I don’t think we’re getting anywhere with this,” he stated matter-of-factly and run his fingers through his blond hair. It was a habit – he always did it when he knew he needed to calm down. 

Viktor averted his eyes. He was disappointed with his performance, because if even Chris didn’t know how to help him, he must have been horrible at this whole French thing. 

“But...” 

Viktor immediately turned his attention back to Chris. 

“There’s one more method we can try out, I think,” he finished the sentence, his expression now fully serious. “I’ll need your explicit consent if you wanna go for it, though.” 

“Tell me about it!” Viktor exclaimed, his blue eyes shimmering in excitement as he almost jumped at Chris like a puppy that didn’t see its owner for longer than ten seconds. 

“I’ve noticed you can’t remember words just from hearing or seeing them, so,” the younger man made a short pause and smirked. “How about we use some physical stimulus to help you learn, Vitya?” 

Viktor gulped. 

“Sounds nice.” 

“Yeah, but do you really want to try it?” Chris narrowed his eyes in concern, easily sensing Viktor’s nervousness. “We don’t have to-” 

“Let’s do it,” he interrupted, the anxiousness quickly evaporating from his face to be overtaken by his usual bravado. “What are you going to teach me today, _professeur_?” 

Chris relaxed at Viktor’s eagerness. Now all he was left with was hope that this last resort will succeed. 

“We’ll play a game,” he replied, a mischievous grin making its way to his face. “At first, I’ll teach you some body-related vocabulary. Your task is to memorize it.” 

“Simple enough.” 

“After you do that, the game begins,” Chris continued. “I’ll point to a certain part of your body and you’ll have to translate the English word for it into French. If you do it correctly, you’ll get a reward. If not, I’ll punish you.” 

Viktor didn’t try to avoid eye contact this time. 

*** 

Chris gave him a sheet of paper with the words to learn and left the room for a couple of minutes to look for “school supplies”, as he phrased it. Viktor had switched his position on the sofa a few times before he found a comfortable one. He grabbed the paper and looked over Chris’ neat handwriting. The list was slightly chaotic, but Viktor didn’t mind. 

Head, shoulders, knees, no toes, then there were the equivalents for arms, thighs, calves, hands, fingers, feet, and a few more things Viktor didn’t feel like bothering with yet. 

He tried his best to remember everything, but, as stated before, it wasn’t one of his talents. 

“Are you done yet, Mr. Nikiforov?” Chris asked when he entered the room and closed the door behind him. 

Viktor sighed. 

“Yeah, I think we can start.” 

“Excellent,” he replied swiftly and walked over to Viktor. He sat beside him and patted his leg. 

Viktor understood the signal without any words spoken and climbed into Chris’ lap. 

“Let’s start with something facile, shall we?” Chris didn’t wait for any answers this time. He cupped Viktor’s face with his hands and brushed the index finger over his bottom lip. “Lips.” 

Viktor involuntarily opened up his mouth a little wider, hoping for the long digit to fill it up. Unfortunately, Chris didn’t move a muscle. He was waiting for Viktor to reply. 

“ _Les lèvres._ ” 

He was almost certain his answer was correct. Almost. Viktor swallowed thickly. 

Chris’ expression changed to a rather pleased one. 

“Good boy.” 

His fingers abruptly entered Viktor’s mouth, going too deep at first and making him choke slightly. A trail of saliva ran down his chin. Chris nuzzled into Viktor’s neck and started leaving butterfly kisses on the sensitive skin – partially to reward him, partially to apologize for the unintentional roughness. 

Viktor’s tongue swirled around the digits as if it wasn’t just fingers he was sucking, and slowly took them deeper – at his own pace, making sure not to get himself any messier. 

The bliss ended as quickly as it began. Chris left Viktor’s mouth empty and yearning once again, making the effort to look at his student’s face properly. His pale cheeks were now flushed with a delicate pink hue, eyelids partially closed in a sultry manner. Viktor licked his lips. 

“What now, _professeur_?” he placed his hand at the hem of Chris’ shirt, playfully fidgeting with the fabric. Viktor pretended not to notice the goosebumps that appeared when his fingers slipped further than planned and touched Chris’ burning skin. He couldn’t let himself be the only one having to work for rewards. 

“Hm...” Chris hummed. He looked at the blue sweater Viktor was wearing once again, now realizing the neckline showed off more than he remembered. “How would you translate collarbone, Mr. Nikiforov?” 

Viktor furrowed his eyebrows. 

“I’m pretty sure you didn’t write that down.” 

“I’m pretty sure you should know it anyway.” 

“That’s not f-” 

_Slap._

Viktor let out a loud yelp. Chris harshly kneaded his ass, a dangerous glint suddenly present in his eyes. Viktor moaned, letting Chris abuse his sensitive skin the way he pleased. 

“Take those off,” he ordered while pointing at the clothes. Viktor wasn’t sure whether it was just his imagination or Chris’ voice really sounded at least an octave lower than usual, but, either way, it was fine with him. He swiftly obeyed the command and waited for further instructions. 

“Lay on my lap.” 

Viktor’s breath hitched. Even though due to Chris’ previous demand he was left with nothing but thin boxers covering his half-hard cock, the fabric felt oddly suffocating. It brushed all the sensitive spots, leaving Viktor throbbing with the overbearing want of carnal pleasures. To put it simply – if Chris told him to beg for his touch, Viktor, putting pride aside, would have done so. 

When the boxers ended on the floor with the rest of his clothes, he took another minute to find a position that was deemed comfortable enough. Viktor fancied numerous kinds of pain in the bedroom, but having a sore neck because of a questionable angle his body had to stay in for too long wasn’t one of them. 

Chris placed his palm at the top of his back. It slid down the curve of his spine unhurriedly, Chris’ thumb caressing Viktor’s milky flesh in a circular motion. 

“You’ll count out loud each spank I’ll give to your pretty ass. Clear?” Chris’ domineering mannerism didn’t leave Viktor with many options. 

He nodded, feeling the heat in his abdomen increasing with each sinful syllable falling from Chris’ plump lips. Chris didn’t forewarn him when he’ll strike for the first time. Viktor also wasn’t aware how many smacks Chris will permit – or how many he himself will be able to withstand for that matter. 

*** 

The pain didn’t feel the way Viktor expected it to. He prepared himself for the stinging sensation of his skin reddening under Chris’ sturdy hand. It never came. Instead of that, he experienced something he couldn’t fully describe – it was like an electric bolt piercing his body, pleasant yet gone quite rapidly. 

“O-one,” Viktor clenched his jaw to prevent an already forming obscene moan from escaping. After all, it was barely the beginning of their little game. 

Chris hummed approvingly. Viktor wasn’t facing him at that moment, but the content noises made him certain that his dear friend was wearing one of his famous shit-eating grins. The grins that appeared on his face only in specific situations – usually when Chris won a medal, less commonly during a particularly lucky day and always when he was just about to get under Viktor’s skin to drive him right over the edge. 

“Good,” said Chris, following it with another slap. With every move of his hand, Chris shifted his position ever so slightly. It was the little things that drove Viktor crazy, like an almost unintentional brush of Chris’ knee on his sensitive cock, or the palm that lingered on his flesh longer than necessary when he had no way to touch Chris back. Maybe it was to punish Viktor even more, maybe not – he found both options equally cruel. 

“Two.” 

And then there were three, four, five, and six. 

Viktor wasn’t sure whether his already abused skin could survive much longer. The burning sensation increased with each spank given to him, previous hedonistic pleasure now turned into something balancing between pain and arousal. Or both at the same time. 

_Slap._

“Seven!” he moaned, bucking his hips to search for any possible form of immediate gratification. There was none. 

It made Viktor realize that it wasn’t the friction he couldn’t take – it was the lack of it. 

“Oh my, you’re quite worked up, aren’t you?” 

He could hear mockery coming from Chris’ voice. He didn’t care. 

***

“You were so good for me, _mon beau_ ,” he whispered, his teeth gently nibbling on Viktor’s earlobe. 

The tenderness of Chris’ soothing words significantly contrasted with his earlier actions. Viktor didn’t mind. 

“Maybe I deserve a reward for that, _prof_?” he suggested teasingly and licked his lips. They were a little chapped. 

Chris hummed in response, clearly considering his offer. His fingers slid down Viktor’s collarbone, the featherlight touches tantalizingly underwhelming. The fleeting brush of Chris’ digits slowed down when it reached Viktor’s chest. 

“Make three correct translations in a row and I’ll think about it.” 

Chris now started paying special attention to Viktor’s nipples, gently pinching the pink buds to get a reaction out of his suddenly-too-smug student. He didn’t have to wait long to hear another lovely sob leaving his mouth. 

“D-deal,” Viktor agreed. “But you can’t use words that weren’t on the list!” 

Chris made a sound that screamed “how offensive!” in at least three languages. Viktor pretended that he didn’t speak any of them. 

“You’re making it sound like I was cheating, _doudou_.” 

“Because you _were_ cheating!” 

*** 

Viktor was doing far better than he predicted, considering his distractingly aching erection and lack of concentration. He didn’t stutter when Chris asked him how to say ‘neck’ in French, because at that moment _le cou_ seemed like the most obvious word he could possibly be questioned about. 

“Excellent,” he muttered and Viktor hanged on his every word like Chris’ praise was all he lived for. 

The next one was ‘chest’. 

Viktor frowned, trying to recall whether _poitrine_ had a _la_ or _le_ placed before it. He went for the first option. 

Viktor let out a soft purr when he heard “Correct.” coming from Chris once again. 

***

Before Chris asked for the last translation, he had slid Viktor off his lap and kneeled in front of him. 

“Thighs, _mon chéri_ ,” he said. “That’s all you need for your sweet reward.” 

Viktor gulped and looked down at Chris. His emerald eyes stared straight into Viktor’s blue ones, pleading for the answer in a wordless manner. At that moment Viktor thought his friend was an incredibly dedicated teacher – Chris acted as if rewarding someone else was more pleasurable than being on the receiving end. 

Waiting for Viktor to say something felt like an eternity, even though it was barely a minute or two that passed. He wore an unreadable expression, which made Chris uneasy in his own anticipation. 

“ _Les cuisses, professeur_.” His pronunciation remained far from perfect, but at that time no one really cared. The confidence in Viktor’s voice was crystal clear, so Chris didn’t bother with stating the obvious – he knew he answered correctly anyway. 

He wrapped his hand around Viktor’s shaft and gave him a teasing pump. Viktor’s breath hitched, his mouth agape and begging to be filled with something – preferably not fingers this time. Chris had to remind himself that he was supposed to be the one reducing Viktor to a moaning mess, not the other way around. “Maybe next time,” he thought. 

He decided that a handjob – as satisfying as it could be – wasn’t simply enough. Chris’ hand got swiftly replaced with his tongue. Viktor’s cock felt heavy in his mouth, but heavy in a good way. Chris adored how Viktor’s whimpers got louder with each lick he was generously given, how his shoulders tensed when Chris sucked particularly hard, and how his barely comprehensible pleas were unintentionally becoming a peculiar mix of English and Russian. 

The main problem with Viktor was his lack of self-control. Chris had to place his hands on Viktor’s hips to prevent him from straight-up fucking his mouth. Even though dying from choking on a dick was, in Chris’ opinion, a very sexy reason to pass away, he didn’t want to try it just yet. 

Just when Viktor’s fingers wanted to tangle into his blond hair and gain some control over the situation, Chris stopped. He pulled Viktor out of his mouth with the most indecent sound imaginable and started looking for something in his pockets. The simple action snapped Viktor out of his daze, the man now suddenly aware of the scandalous amount of clothing Chris was somehow still wearing. 

“Why am I the only one that’s naked?” he complained. 

“You’re also the only one that’s getting his dick sucked. I don’t see the issue,” Chris replied and cocked an eyebrow. “Ah, found it!” he added and took a small bottle of lube out of his pants. 

“So that’s what you call ‘school supplies’ these days, I assume.” 

“You’re gonna end up jacking yourself off if you don’t cut down on pettiness, Nikiforov,” he warned him. 

The vision couldn’t have been to Viktor’s liking, because he didn’t respond after that. 

***

Chris took off his clothes anyway. They were going to end up cleaner while lying on the floor than after an encounter with a horny Viktor Nikiforov – and Chris fancied the idea of going back home with a pair of pants that weren’t all covered in cum. 

He coated his fingers with a generous amount of lube and pressed one into Viktor’s puckered hole. The man tensed visibly when Chris was getting past the tight muscle of his rim, the feeling still foreign to him. Chris captured his needy mouth with his own and gently nibbled on the bottom lip. 

“Relax, _doudou_ ,” he whispered between kisses and started slowly moving his finger, letting Viktor get used to the sensation. 

Viktor nodded and closed his eyes, trying to absorb every single collision of Chris’ flaming heat against his skin. 

“You can add a-another, please...” 

Chris obliged and smiled in satisfaction when the man in front of him fell even further apart with every thrust of the fingers inside. 

Chris took his time to open him up – at first gently, watching for any sign of discomfort on Viktor’s face. When there was none to be found, he began scissoring him, accompanied with a lovely serenade of moans coming from Viktor himself. 

Then he decided to go deeper, the third finger joining in the process, curling up to hit a particular bundle of nerves. 

“O-oh fuck, fuck, Chris, just like t-that!” he cried out, hips bucking uncontrollably. The friction was there this time and Viktor had no idea what to do with that fact. 

He was right on the edge, because Chris’ fingers just felt so right and perfect inside him and when his other hand started stroking his cock again, damn, it felt unreal, too good to be true. 

“C-Chris!” his body arched into an almost flawless bow, everything too blurry, too overwhelming, too much. 

At first, Viktor didn’t even realize what had happened. It took a minute or two to come back to reality and the sight of Chris licking off his cum from his hand to make everything click. 

“That was... intense,” he said, not sure whether ‘intense’ was enough of a word to capture the whole experience. 

“You surely were enjoying yourself, _doudou_ ,” Chris hummed, an aroused glint still visible in his eyes. 

Viktor gulped and looked down at Chris’ painfully hard cock. He was ashamed of being so caught-up in his own pleasure that he forgot about his partner. Chris eyed down Viktor’s body as if contemplating something. 

“You look absolutely stunning like this,” he praised Viktor and gripped his left leg. “Do you know what would be even more beautiful right now, _mon beau_?” 

Viktor didn’t move an inch when Chris playfully pinned him down to the sofa. He was still too boneless after his orgasm. 

“If you let me fuck those gorgeous thighs of yours.” 

Viktor pulled Chris into a messy kiss, saliva rolling down both of their chins, Viktor’s hair harshly tugged, but the pain felt good. 

“Go ahead,” he replied simply, hooking his ankles behind Chris’ back in a position similar to missionary. 

Chris didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed the lube, the liquid ending not only on Viktor’s thighs, but making a mess wasn’t problematic to him. Cleaning-up was an issue for future Chris to deal with. 

His thrusts were shallow and rapid, both traits shared in common with Chris’ breathing, but it was more than enough. At some point, he wasn’t sure what part of Viktor he was grabbing – still probably his ass – since the pretty legs draped around him made him lose his mind more than he’d like to admit. 

Soon they were both lying down next to each other, eyes closed, bodies too tired to move a single muscle. 

***

Yuuri hummed when Viktor answered the question. 

“Vitya?” he called his name once more. 

His fiance shifted his attention back to Yuuri. 

“What is it?” Viktor asked, picking up the dishes and putting them in the sink. 

Yuuri sent him one of those innocent, angelic smiles that he would literally die for. 

“Could you teach me some French, too?”

**Author's Note:**

> hi! It took me way longer to finish writing this horny piece than I predicted ngl  
> also my French is a complete disaster, so apologies in advance
> 
> hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
